


Nap

by baeberiibungh



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Fluff, Insomnia, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, Touching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:34:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24390634
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/baeberiibungh/pseuds/baeberiibungh
Summary: Geralt is having another insomnia episode. So Jaskier takes care of him...
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 14
Kudos: 211





	Nap

Geralt stares at the blank wall in a stupor. He can easily hear Jaskier moving around about the room, rooting in their bags and the clinks of him riffling through Geralt’s salves and potions. Geralt gives an indelicate snort. As if there is anything left in his vast knowledge to still try. As if Geralt is not short of finding a god damn Djinn just so he can have a few moments of peace. As if he is not ready to kill as well as die just to be able to sleep. 

Their coin is running dangerously low and Geralt does not know how long Jaskier can just sing them into a room with a bed anymore with food to go. A bath does sound wonderful. But low funds dictate that it is now a luxury they cannot afford. A thermal spring sounds equally magnificent but they are far from any mountain or natural spots of the kind. Geralt can feel how tense he is and how his body aches as hard knots form under his skin.

He has had spells like this before, when he had not been able to sleep. But never so long and never so draining on what soul he has as a witcher. But it had been two long weeks. Half of which he managed fine, even going for two contracts to fatten up their pockets. The pay had been measly truth be told but Geralt had thought that the exhaustion bought on by the hunt would ease him into a dreamless sleep soon.

No such luck. He had gone and come back from both contracts and, feeling like his head is in a vice, rubbing at his eyes, and actually tottering like a frail lass before Jaskier had pulled Geralt to him and held him. Geralt could not shake the tremors that shook his body as he clung to Jaskier with a pathetic whine. If things did not better themselves, he would have to get word out to Vesemir. He would have to.

Jaskier deposits Geralt on their shared bed and Geralt shakes and shakes, feeling hysteria bubbling at his throat. What kind of witcher he was to be done by his own brain rather than the many monsters he had killed so effortlessly over the years. Eskel and Lamber will laugh so much at him, to be needing Jaskier of all people to look after him, like a small babe. Humiliating. And fortifying. All at the same time.

It is the scrape of the tub against the ground that brings Geralt out of his head. He comes to his senses, alarmed, to find that Jaskier or even one of the maids had filled up the tub with hot water. Steam rises above the surface of the sweet smelling water that shines with the glaze of some oil, lavender maybe, and some herbs that float on the water. Geralt feels utterly destroyed that he didn’t even notice anyone else in the room, he was so out of it. 

“Ah, my dear Witcher. Come on now. Off with those clothes. A hot bath awaits you. No mean feat bringing all that water up. (Hearing this mollifies Geralt. Only Jaskier then. Its only been Jaskier in the room.) I tipped in a mix of your oils and herbs and this should really do the trick. Come now. No more waiting. The water will turn cold otherwise. Here, let me help you with that armour. Hmm. Good, very good,” Jaskier softly murmurs at Geralt.

Geralt moves his stiff limbs and takes off his clothes with Jaskier’s help, his mind screaming at him to stop being so soft. But his brain needs the reprieve. It had been also rather noisy in his head as voices had clamoured for attention, demanding that he listen to them. There are of course voices in is head, reading him lessons and screaming at him, but usually dulled by his consciousness. And not this mess of conflicting feelings that those voices rise in him.

Jaskier leads Geralt to the tub and holds his hand as Geralt lowers himself in it. The water is hot. Just this side of too much but still bearable. Geralt lets out a deep sigh and inhales the healing smell, all natural and calming. His headache lowers a smidge. He settles back into the tub and hums. Jaskier sits down by the outer rim of the tub and takes a hold of Geralt’s hand and Geralt lets him.

Two minutes later, as the warm water unknots Geralt’s tension, Jaskier lets go of his hand and picks up a mug. It is actually a flagon. Jaskier dunks the flagon into the water and pours it on Geralt’s head. Next he takes a piece of soap, hacked into a minute sliver really, and washes Geralt’s hair softly, running his hands and fingertips though his scalp in soothing circles. 

Jaskier washes Geralt thoroughly, making him stand for half a minute as he basically wipes him down with the foam in his hand. Geralt shivers. Jaskier lowers him down into the hot water again. Seconds later, he produces a towel that is graying but is soft to the touch. Jaskier pulls Geralt out and towels him down vigorously, wiping his hair first and last to catch the dripping water droplets.

Through it all, Jaskier maintains a slow and low commentary about his new song, his search for rarer herbs and his family back home. It is like a soothing balm to Geralt, as it encroaches on the other voices inside him and lulls them out. Jaskier’s voice is so nice, Geralt thinks. So very nice indeed. Jaskier next pulls out a cream out of his own bag and proceeds to slather almost half of it on Geralt. Thankfully it has no smell.

Putting one of his own tunic on Geralt, Jaskier pulls and prods Geralt to a similarly dressed Jaskier and then wraps his hands around Geralt on the bed, continuing to chatter nonsense into his ear. Geralt feels completely at ease with this and merely looks at their dwindling fire. Geralt did not feel hungry given how bad he had been feeling, but he knew that Jaskier had probably foregone his dinner just to get that bath for Geralt.

Feeling very fond, he turned to Jaskier and planted a kiss on his nose, receiving a happy and sleepy hum in return. Jaskier tries to keep talking but it is evident he is tired after the fifth yawn. He keeps talking right into his sleep, a word half out of his mouth and a snore the second. Geralt merely gathers Jaskier more fully to himself and listens to the crack of the wood in the hearth and the steady and quick heartbeat of Jaskier quite late into the night.

Geralt falls asleep between one heartbeat and the next.

**Author's Note:**

> My First Witcher fic. Please leave kudos and comments if you like.


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